Monday, April 05, 2010

NaPoWriMo 3

(My tabs are not showing up correctly so I'm breaking the poem into stanzas.)

I watch his elbows bend forward and backpulling the laces into a mismatched V,overwhelmed by his six-year old fingers.It’s all in the wrists I want to tell him,But I just watch, keep the knot of a mouth tied tight.

For now,it’s right-over-left, left-over right,the leveraging of weight, willing the strings to make their connections. Then there are the loops, those incredible bunny ears—one side too short, the other unwraps in his hands.

He wants to give up, leave behind his black sneaks for his Velcro shoes and play outsidebefore evening comes. Still, I say nothing,urge him to try again because it doesn’t get any easier. Thumb to index finger, I say,gather, fold, tie, twist.

my youngest is in that sneaker-tying stage and it's so difficult to watch them struggle with it. something that "simple" gets me all tangled up in the should-i-step-in's and the it's-easier-if-i-just-do-it's ... but it's wonderful when they get it. i'm so happy to see how you've described it here: in time ticking (things waiting for him outside), in choices (go back to velcro?). all of it. :)